Lost
by SkyetheWriter
Summary: Tony never believed in Heaven or Hell, but right now he's rethinking his theology. Oneshot.


**A/N: This is short and random. Hopefully some of you will find it sweet**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing  
**

Cold

Everything was cold and…numb.

At least, he thought it was numbness, only surely if he was numb then it wouldn't hurt so much. Surely if he was really and truly numb then his whole soul wouldn't feel like it was ripping apart.

Alone

Maybe he wasn't numb but he was definitely alone. Alone and…hollow. He felt hollowed out. Like there was a gaping hole in his heart, in his chest. As if he'd been shot through the sternum with one of his own giant missiles.

Afraid

He didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid. Frightened. Frightened of the future, of what was left, because there couldn't possibly be anything left anymore. Nothing. How could he even have a future if there was nothing left he wanted in life, nothing left to make life enjoyable. Nothing left to even make life _bearable_.

Mad

He felt like he was going mad. Maybe he _was_. He couldn't really form coherent thought anymore, couldn't think. Couldn't _do_. How was he supposed to function anymore? How was he supposed to carry on?

Empty

That might have been the worst part. The knowledge that there could be nothing left inside him-that he was an empty shell-that he was barely human anymore, because humans _felt_. And he wasn't sure he was capable of feeling anymore. He wasn't sure he'd ever be capable of anything ever again.

Lost

Maybe _that_ was the worst part. He didn't know where he was anymore. He could no longer distinguish up from down, left from right, right from wrong. He didn't know the difference between forwards and backwards, backwards and forwards. He no longer had a sense of direction, no sense of purpose, nor even of _being_. He didn't feel real anymore, he felt suspended-weightless, but crushed at the same time-as if the whole weight of the universe were pressing down upon him. He was in limbo. Not quite in Hell but not in Heaven either, and somewhere deep in his gut he knew what was coming. He knew that the former was his destiny and that the latter had never really been going to happen. He wasn't lucky like that, and he should have seen it coming. He should have known that something like this would happen eventually and that this would be the effect. What was worse is that he should have stopped it, he _could_ have stopped it, but he hadn't. So this was his fault.

He was in his own personal limbo that was tipping him faster and faster down towards Hell. He'd never been particularly religious, he was a scientist, and talk of Heaven and Hell had always made him laugh. Though now he wasn't so sure that Hell didn't exist, after all, if this wasn't Hell he was heading into now then what was? Granted there were no burning fires or instruments of devilish torture-but this torture was far worse.

So maybe he wasn't completely lost-maybe Hell was real-and he was in it, though he was still under no illusions that there was a Heaven. How could there be a Heaven? How could there even be happiness anymore? How could there be a peace of mind and body-a peace that was supposedly brought by Heaven?

He was cold

He was alone

He was afraid

He was going mad

He was empty

He was _lost_.

Hell was real, and Tony Stark was there.

* * *

But then something stirred the blackness, a movement in the corner of his eye, the sound of something stirring from behind him.

And a word, just one word. One word muttered quietly through lips he thought forever silenced

'_Tony,'_

He turned, and in that moment all his previous illusions shattered before his eyes. Tony Stark wasn't in Hell, and at that minute he knew, he _knew_, that Heaven was real. Of course Heaven was real; it was right in front of him. Heaven was _her_. Heaven was Pepper Potts. No-more than that-Heaven was in the steady rise and fall of her chest, the light that sparked in her bright blue eyes, the twitching of her elegant fingers as they slowly remembered the patterns of movement. Heaven was in the way her gaze fell on him questioningly, nervously, but so very _alive_.

She was _alive_.

And feeling was flooding back to him; life was flooding back to him.

With her tired but loving eyes boring into his re-awakening ones, Tony Stark found himself emerging back out of Hell.

He was warm again

He was loved again

He didn't need to be afraid anymore

He was sane again

He was whole again

He was _found_

And maybe, just maybe, with Pepper Potts living and breathing by his side, Tony Stark thought Heaven could be real.

**Random I know,** **please let me know what you thought**


End file.
